When the Bough Breaks
by Nocturnias
Summary: A 4th Doctor/Sarah story. The Doctor is on the edge of a breakdown. Can Sarah help him to heal himself while dealing with her own turbulent feelings? COMPLETE.
1. Default Chapter

WHEN THE BOUGH BREAKS  
  
Author's Note: This story is rated R for mature themes, mild violence, angst, and sexual situations. If any of these ideas bother you too much to keep reading, please don't! I welcome feedback as long as it is not "flaming." Helpful suggestions and opinions I can handle. Please review if you read: it's my first Dr. Who fic and I need to know how I'm doing. Thanks!  
  
PROLOGUE/PART 1  
  
Rock-a-bye baby  
  
In the tree top  
When the wind blows,  
The cradle will rock.  
When the bough breaks  
The cradle will fall,  
And down will come baby  
Cradle and all.  
  
"Doctor?"  
  
Sarah's voice, soft and concerned, drew him out of his daze. How long had he been sitting on the ground? She put a hesitant hand on his shoulder, and then withdrew it almost immediately. He wouldn't look at her, his gaze instead following the trail of bloodied bodies strewn about the field like rag dolls.  
  
"Doctor."  
  
"What is it, Sarah?"  
  
"Doctor, would you please look at me?" Her tone bordered on agitation.  
  
He slowly turned his head upwards. Sweat and blood mingled in his curls and gave them a reddish cast. His eyes made her shiver. They weren't angry, or sad. That she could have handled. What frightened her is that they were vacant.  
  
In all the time she'd known him, his eyes had been outraged, regretful, thoughtful, merry, dark blue mirrors that showed his every mood. Now those mirrors were broken.  
  
"Why wouldn't they listen?" He whispered. "I warned them, all but begged them not to attack. And now look what's happened. Every last one of them dead. For nothing. All for nothing. The building was set to explode, the order knew they would kill themselves rather than be taken. I knew that. Even you knew that."  
  
"Well, thanks a lot," she quipped, trying to lighten the darkness. But he wasn't having any of it. "They don't listen, until it's too late. So many times, so much pointless violence."  
  
Sarah's eyes widened in outright alarm as the Doctor began rocking back and forth on his heels. "Always the same," he whispered. "Bloody useless. And I'm tired."  
  
"Come on, then, we'll go back to the TARDIS and you can rest before we head off again," she said lightly. He shook his head.  
  
"I'm not leaving."  
  
"Well, right, I mean, we'll do what we can to help out first," she began, but he cut her off.  
  
"You don't understand, Sarah Jane. I am tired. Tired of all this. And I'm not going to do it anymore." His eyes closed.  
  
She stared at him. "What do you mean?" She gasped.  
  
"What I mean is, I am seven hundred and forty-nine years old. I have died and regenerated 3 times. I was there when Genghis Khan began his conquest of your world. I was there when war broke out on the planet Theteon. Both times. I carried a boy who had no business being given a gun away as we were pursued by soldiers. I have seen machines that wanted to control the universe. I have been tortured, imprisoned, beaten, threatened, and nearly killed more times than even I might be able to count. I've seen people I cared about die because of me, or their stupidity, or some other pointless reason."  
  
His eyes had opened again and were fixed on hers, but for all that she could read in them he might as well have been staring at a wall. Whatever made the Doctor who he was, gave him energy and faith and drive, was gone. Simply gone. And there was nothing in its place but a shadow on his soul.  
  
"I have seen these things too often," he murmured. "And it is going to stop."  
  
Now she was truly terrified. He'd never spoken like this before, and she had no idea of what to make of it, or what to say to him. He rose, started to wipe his hand on his coat sleeve, then saw that it was covered in blood. With a sudden, angry movement he wrenched his coat off and threw it down. Almost as an afterthought, he began taking off clothes.  
  
"Doctor?" Sarah cried, distress knotting the normal smoothness of her features, as she watched him throw off his hat, unbutton his vest, tear it off his body along with his shirt as though he could no longer stand the sight of them. When he was clad only in scarf, trousers and boots he stopped. He stared at the clothes, then thrust them at her and started walking.  
  
"Where are we going?" She asked, hurrying after him.  
  
"I'm going to the TARDIS to move to the next continent over. Then I'm going to go into a nice quiet little town, buy some clothes, rent a room, and sleep."  
  
"Why don't we just stay in the TARDIS?" She asked.  
  
He glanced at her over his shoulder. "I don't want to," he said simply.  
  
"And what about me?" She said, fear climbing into her voice and making it higher than normal.  
  
"You can stay in the TARDIS. Or you can stay in the town. Whatever you want, Sarah. I'll give you money, I won't leave you hanging, you know that." He stopped walking and swung around to face her, his expression more serious and sad than she'd ever thought it could be. "But I have to be alone. I'm sorry."  
  
"Doctor, listen to me."  
  
"No, Sarah Jane, it's you who must listen to me right now," he said gravely, taking her slim shoulders in his hands. "I feel that I am about to snap. Do you have any idea of what that would be like for me?"  
  
She swallowed hard. "No," she replied in a rough, soft voice.  
  
"Neither do I, because it's never happened. But I do know that the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you. And if you are with me right now, that is precisely what will occur. I've got to try and get hold of myself, and I can't do that with someone else around."  
  
"You seem all right now," she protested. He shook his head hard. A fleck of blood slid out of his hair and onto her arm. She drew a startled breath at the sight of it.  
  
"What I seem and what I am are two different things. You know that."  
  
"Yes," she replied. She nodded. "All right, we'll have it your way, then. A little planet side stopover."  
  
"Not a stopover, Sarah." He started walking again.  
  
She rushed to his side, grabbing his arm and making him stop. "What do you mean, not a stopover?"  
  
"I mean that, regardless of what happens, I'm staying on this planet. I'm done with it all."  
  
Sarah stared, comprehension creeping into her mind like bitter poison.  
  
The Doctor's face was resolute. "I'm never going to travel again." 


	2. When the Bough Breaks, Part 2

WHEN THE BOUGH BREAKS, PART 2  
  
Thanks so much to sheperdmoon and sam for your review of part 1! Disclaimer: All hail the Beeb, who owns all things Dr. Who. I do this for love, not money. No disrespect or copyright infringement is intended. I just want to play.  
  
Sarah's breath came out in a tiny gasp. "Wha.. you what?" She couldn't have heard him correctly. She couldn't have!  
  
"You heard me," the Doctor said, setting off again. "It's over. Done. Finito ad infinitum."  
  
"But. but you can't stop! You simply can't!" She protested in disbelief.  
  
"Oh? And why not?" Sarcasm dripped from his voice.  
  
"Because there's too much to be done! You're the Doctor, remember? Running round the universe, righting wrongs, saving worlds and all that? That's what you do, remember?"  
  
"No. That's what I used to do. Now I'm going to settle down out of harm's way."  
  
"But."  
  
"And I'm going to change my name!" He exclaimed, a grin flashing across his features as if he'd just discovered an ancient civilization's final resting place. "Something simple, something that no one will associate with anything heroic, or dashing, or threatening."  
  
"Doctor."  
  
"How about Bob? Nice and simple, don't you think? No one could possibly think a name like that would strike fear in the hearts of Daleks. If they had fear or hearts, that is."  
  
"DOCTOR!"  
  
"Yes, Sarah? What is it?" He asked calmly, as though they were discussing the weather instead of the utter upheaval of both their existences.  
  
"You. you. you simply can't!" She repeated, hating her lack of words but too stunned to think of anything more to say at the moment.  
  
"O, but I can. I can and I will," he chuckled. "I've put my time in saving the galaxy, the universe, and everything in between. I've got millennia of holiday time due me, and I'm taking it. I'm giving my notice and punching my card." "But who will."  
  
"Who will what?" He asked, irritation seeping into his voice.  
  
"Who will save the universe?" Her tone was pleading.  
  
He was on her in an instant, gripping her by the forearms. Not enough to be physically painful, but the emotional force of it made her sob. His eyes were alive again, but not with anything she wanted to see.  
  
"I don't care!" He shouted. "I don't care if it's another Time Lord or the Easter Bunny! I don't care who it is, or if anyone does it, you do hear me? It's not going to be me, Sarah! I AM DONE IT IS OVER!"  
  
Sarah bit back the tears, lower lip quivering. Of all the things that had ever frightened her while traveling with the Doctor, nothing else even came close to what she was feeling right now. But she was strong, stronger than the Doctor had ever given her credit for. Part of her wanted nothing more than to wrench herself from his grasp and run away from him. But she held her ground and stared him down.  
  
As suddenly as it had begun, his rage ended. The fire left his eyes as he blinked several times, realizing what he was doing. He snatched his hands away from her. "Do you see?" He asked, breath coming in gasps. "Do you see what I just did to you? Sarah, I. I'm so sorry." He hung his head.  
  
She managed a weak grin. "S'okay, Doctor. I'm not a china teacup, after all."  
  
"No, but you are human. And if I really lost control of myself." He shook his head. "Come on. The sooner I can get away from you, the better I'll feel."  
  
"That's a lovely line," she muttered as she fell into step with him again.  
  
A few hours later they stood together outside the TARDIS, on the outskirts of a town. The Doctor had done exactly what he said he was going to. He had taken a bath and changed clothes, then transported them to this sleepy little bit of a continent. Now he was rummaging round for money for them. As he opened boxes and envelopes, Sarah couldn't help but stare at him. He hadn't put his old clothes back on, even though she'd cleaned and pressed them in the laundry machine. He now wore a dark blue cotton turtleneck and black trousers with a pair of black leather half boots. No hat, no vest, no coat. Only his scarf remained from his former outfit. In the dim light of the TARDIS storeroom he looked younger, more vulnerable in this outfit. Not to mention dishy.  
  
"Ah, here we are!" He said, removing a large handful of notes. "I knew I'd kept some."  
  
He handed her a stack. "This should keep you well off if you want to stay in the town." And you have a key to the TARDIS if you want to stay here."  
  
She nodded. For the moment she'd decided not to press him further. After what had happened earlier. the memory of his voice, harsh with anger, his hands on her, rang in her mind. She pushed it aside. "And what about you?"  
  
"Me, O, I'll be about." The old mischief was in his eyes. But it faded as they darkened. "But you must stay away from me."  
  
"If you wanted rid of me, there were easier ways," she joked. The look on his face made her regret it.  
  
"I don't want rid of you, Sarah." He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again to look into hers. "And I'm very sorry to be doing this. I know that right now you probably hate me."  
  
"What?" She exclaimed. "Hate you? You really have gone potty!"  
  
He continued as though she hadn't spoken. "But I have to do what's best. I know you'll want to go back to Earth, and believe me, as soon as I'm able, I'll take you. But right now I can't. I just." His voice cracked, so slight that someone who didn't know him might never have noticed. But she did.  
  
"I just can't," he finished quietly.  
  
"It's ok Doctor. I had been wanting a holiday."  
  
He smiled at her feeble attempt at humor. "Well, here we go, then." He felt a sudden chill. It had been a long time since he'd been alone, completely alone. Always there had been the banter, the exchange of ideas, jokes, and gentle affection with a companion. He did so enjoy human company. Especially Sarah's. Now that was going to be gone. But it had to be. If he was about to go mad, he certainly wasn't going to take her with him. She was far too dear to him for that.  
  
"Yes," she agreed, a lump in her throat. "Be seeing you later."  
  
As he turned her voice stopped him. "Doctor."  
  
She took his face in her hands, something she'd never done before. Her skin was soft and incredibly warm against his.  
  
"Please. take care of yourself," she whispered.  
  
He smiled. "I will."  
  
She shook her head in frustration. There was something else she had to tell him; somehow she had to find the words.  
  
He stood staring into her dark brown eyes. He could feel her heart, its one beat in perfect synch with his two. There was something else he should say to her; somehow he had to find the words.  
  
Their faces were close, not even an inch apart. He inclined his head, and she stood on tiptoe, pressing her forehead to his, both of them searching for a way to make this parting less painful.  
  
"Sarah." He murmured.  
  
"Doctor," she whispered.  
  
He turned at the exact instant she did, and as they went to speak again their lips touched.  
  
/My God,/ Sarah thought, dazed. /I'm kissing him. He's kissing me. We're kissing./  
  
But she didn't want to stop.  
  
/By Rassilon,/ The Doctor thought. /I'm kissing her. She's kissing me. We're kissing./  
  
But he didn't want to stop.  
  
When their lips finally parted both of them drew a shaky breath. The Doctor stepped back from her slightly. Sarah did the same, her eyes dazed. He swallowed hard and reached out with two fingers of his right hand to stroke her cheek.  
  
"Take care, Sarah Jane Smith," he said softly.  
  
She wanted to speak, wanted to beg him to stop this bit of madness, for them to get back into the TARDIS and take off like they'd always done before. But the words struck in her throat, and she could only nod.  
  
As he walked away the tears finally won, spilling salty drops of despair down her cheeks 


	3. When the Bough Breaks, Part 3

WHEN THE BOUGH BREAKS PART 3  
  
"I never really know a killer from a savior/til I break at the bend."   
  
Fuel, "Shimmer." Quote from the song used without permission. But it's all theirs.  
  
"This is my penthouse view?"  
  
The Doctor frowned. His voice sounded fake, the voice of a person who was trying to make light of something. Which he was. But he was failing miserably. All of his usual witty remarks and snappy comebacks seemed to have caught and died in his throat. He didn't feel like being jovial. There was no use trying to pretend otherwise.  
  
He sighed, tossing down the cloth bags that held his purchases. Sarganti was just as he'd remembered it: remote, quiet, and peaceful. Surrounded by the Andurin Sea along this bay area. Perfect for fishing, boating, or simply lazing on the banks. There were several restaurants, a large public library, and shops selling everything from chocolate to clothes. And a pub. There were no Cybermen, Sontarians, ancient Gods, or fanatical would-be universe destroyers. The most menacing thing he'd seen on his way to the inn was a creature that resembled a domestic Earth cat.  
  
In short, it's the perfect place for me to have a nervous breakdown, he thought.  
  
He glanced about his room. Large bed, white bedspread and sheets, soft looking pillows. Small dresser, table with two chairs. Closet with white wooden door. A cooling cube stood near a food replicator. The bathroom had a sunken garden tub as well as a shower. It would do nicely.  
  
He began to unpack. Five more turtlenecks, five sweaters. Six flannel shirts. All of them in various colors. Ten pairs of trousers, all black. A dark blue velvet wide-brimmed hat. Two more pairs of boots. Socks (black) and cotton boxers (black). Two pairs of red and white pinstriped pajamas. A long black leather coat, and a burgundy velvet jacket. His diary, a notebook and a dozen pens. He put fruit, cheese, bread and a meat that tasted like pastrami in the cooling cube, along with several bottles of wine. Vodka, white crème de cacao and Kaluha, all of which he'd gotten from the TARDIS. An assortment of other types of alcohol in exotic bottles from various planets. All of this had been sitting on shelves, never opened. He seldom drank and had rarely thought to ask any of his companions if they'd like something.   
  
"Well," he said aloud briskly, "That was the old me. This is the new me, and drinking is certainly on my agenda."  
  
It struck him of how reckless he sounded, how human. Isn't that what they did? So many of them, drinking to try and escape from their pain, their loneliness. Was he now no different? What would the Time Lords of the Council think if they could see him now?  
  
"What indeed!" He muttered angrily. "It's partly because of that lot that I'm here now! Exiling me to Earth, putting me in peril, sending me to do their dirty work... is it any wonder I feel the way I do?"  
  
Even as he spoke, he knew it wasn't the truth. Not the entire truth, anyway. His life was his own doing. No one had forced him to go round "saving the universe" as Sarah had put it. That had been his own grandiose idea. Here I am, the Doctor, come to fix everything, to help put it all to rights.  
  
He shivered. So... who was going to fix him?  
  
He knew the answer. He had to do it himself, or go mad trying.  
  
The thought of Sarah reminded him of their good-bye. More specifically, of the kiss. He shook his head. How could he have let that happen? She was his friend, his companion. She trusted him. It should not, not have occurred. Except... except that when he had felt her body so close, her lips so soft and yielding, he hadn't wanted to stop it. And apparently, neither had she.  
  
That was equally disturbing. Not only did he kiss her, but she'd wanted it. And if she wanted it, that had to mean...  
  
No, surely not! She was just being... friendly. A friendly farewell kiss. Yes. That was it. Nothing at all to-  
  
Flapdoodle! Another part of his mind retorted. Friendly kisses do not involve dueling tongues!   
  
He sighed, sat down at the table and rested his chin on steepled hands. Well, all right, it wasn't just a friendly kiss. But still, no cause for alarm. Just a spur of the moment thing, it had never happened before, surely it wouldn't ever happen again.  
  
You're awfully good at deceiving yourself, aren't you? That other part of his mind asked.  
  
What do you know about it?   
  
Enough to know that you've wanted to do that for a while now.  
  
As the Doctor glumly digested this idea, the voice added: and so has she.  
  
Now look here, that's pure supposition on your part-  
  
Is it? Is it really? I rather think not. And if you think about it, you'll come to the same conclusion.  
  
He sighed. I must be going mad. I'm arguing with myself.  
  
And losing badly.  
  
He bit back a retort. A bath, that was what he needed. A good soak in some bubbles. And then some sleep. "Sleep, perchance to dream," he said, and headed for the bath.  
  
They were everywhere. He could feel their slime covered tentacles, the razor sharp teeth dripping venom, smell their foul odor as it threatened to choke his breath away. But all he could think of was Sarah. They were after Sarah, and he had to save her...  
  
Now he was on Earth. 1867. What was called the Civil War time. Only there was nothing civil about war, any war. And the boy in his arms was bleeding badly. If he didn't help him, he would die. And if he did, history would be changed. The shots were getting closer. He didn't know what he was going to do. But he knew that he couldn't let the boy die like this, at the hands of his enemies. So he started running, the shots from their primitive guns thundering over his head, raining bullets that he prayed he could miss...  
  
Spiders. Everywhere. Wrapped tightly in a web, unable to move, helpless, at their mercy. Offering the Great One the crystal, slowly being poisoned by radiation so powerful and deadly not even he could withstand it, feeling his body dissolve around him as this new reincarnation pushed forth, the living from the dead...  
  
He bolted upright with a gasp. Nightmares. He hardly ever slept, and here he was having nightmares. His forehead was wet with sweat. He felt his hearts beating erratically and drew several deep breaths, waiting for his body to calm itself. After a minute or so it did, but his mind was in chaos. Time Lords didn't have nightmares... did they? He'd never had any before. Why now?  
  
"Shock," he said to himself. "Stress. On edge. Nothing a nightcap won't help."   
  
He rose and took a bottle from one of his bags. Peach brandy from Earth. Just the ticket.  
  
As he swallowed some of the sweet drink, he wondered what Sarah would think if she could see him now, standing in the middle of his room, sweaty and disheveled, wearing red and white striped pajamas, drinking brandy. He imagined her exotic eyes widening, a rich curve to her lips as she grinned. "You really have gone mad," she'd say, with a gentle affection.  
  
Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. She seems much on your mind.  
  
He frowned at the voice. What are you insinuating?  
  
I don't need to insinuate anything, do I, old chap. We both know why you've got her fixed in your thoughts like a lighthouse beacon.  
  
She is NOT fixed in my thoughts!  
  
No, of course not. And Daleks can fly.  
  
Look, I know you're a part of my mind, but I really don't fancy having this conversation with you.  
  
What's wrong, dear boy? Can't bear to hear the truth?  
  
There is no truth to hear, he thought firmly.  
  
O, but there is. Of course, I doubt it will matter soon. Once she finds out how pathetic you really are she'll not give you another thought.  
  
What do you mean!  
  
The voice laughed, a hollow mocking sound. Do you think she'll be able to forgive you for what you did, what you're doing now? Just because she kissed you doesn't mean she isn't hurt. She won't forget it. Bit by bit it will eat away at her until there's nothing left for you.  
  
Liar, he hissed at the voice.  
  
And your nightmares. How typical, how utterly human. Filled with all your fears and failings. And you have failed, don't forget that. You've failed with a lot of things. Sarah is just the next one on the list. A long list, I might add.  
  
"Stop it!" He said.  
  
Can't handle it, eh? I don't blame you. Why would you want to hear how you've mucked up your life and the lives of everyone who's ever cared about you? Susan, Jo, Harry, Sarah... you've scarred them for life with these little meanderings through the universe of yours. And did you ever think about it, ever stop to consider what you were doing to them? No. Because you're the Doctor, and the Doctor only cares about one thing: himself.   
  
"I SAID STOP!" The Doctor roared. He sank to his knees, hands clamped over his ears as though it would help make the voice go away.   
  
A soft knock sounded. "Sir, are you all right?" The night clerk's anxious voice called.  
  
The Doctor shuddered, forced himself to reply. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you," he called out, feigning a casualness he didn't feel. "Little r'iw bug got in here and was nipping at me. Got me a few times before I could squash it! Sorry about that, I'm not used to bugs."  
  
"All right, sir. Good night."  
  
The footsteps receded, and he shakily got to his feet. Another drink, that's what he needed. It would help settle his nerves.  
  
He poured another glass. And another. He altered his chemistry to allow the alcohol to have the effect he wanted, which was to make him completely soused. One way or another, he would silence that voice.  
  
There were no further whispers. But it took eight glasses before he was able to fall back asleep. 


	4. When the Bough Breaks, Part 4

When the Bough Breaks, Part 4  
  
To TimeasunderQ, shepherdmoon, Rill with a view, drox and Samantha 2074: thanks so much for your feedback! I'm glad to know I'm doing a good job so far. Your kind words are inspiring me all the more. I hope everyone enjoys this next part.   
  
"The longest kiss/Feeling furniture days/Drift madly to you/Pollute my heart, drain/You have broken me/Broken me/All your mental armor drags me down/Nothing hurts like your mouth."   
  
"Mouth," By Bush, from the "Razorblade Suitcase" album, copyright by Bush, lyric used w/o permission.  
  
Three days. She'd not heard a word and it had been three days. Now she felt as though she was going mad as well.  
  
She'd stayed in the TARDIS because... well. She felt closer to him there. It wasn't rational, or logical, and she was sure that if he knew he'd probably give a good derisive snort. But she didn't care. And if he came back, that was the first place he'd go. Back to his home, back to her.  
  
Only he hadn't done that. She'd seen nothing, not even a fleeting glimpse of his scarf. She'd gone round to some of the shops, figuring that if she had to be stuck in this place for who knew how long she might as well do something while she was stuck. She'd even been to the pub once or twice. That had proven to be her only source of information, and on this day what she learned had served to confuse and dismay her in equal measure.  
  
"Oh, yes, I've seen that fellow," one of the staff told her. "He came round just yesterday evening. Must be having a party tonight."  
  
"What do you mean?" She'd asked.  
  
"Well, he bought quite a lot of drink. Best sale I had all day."  
  
Sarah's heart had sunk. If the Doctor was drinking, either he thought it would help him or he'd given in to despair. And she had no way of knowing which was the case.   
  
"Did he say anything? Anything at all?" She'd asked, urgency sharpening her tone.  
  
The man looked at her in puzzlement. She tried a different tack. "Look, I'm a close friend of his and, well, we had an argument. I don't know where he's at and I'd like to sort it out." She smiled, hoping she'd sounded convincing.  
  
"Well, he did say one thing. But it didn't make any sense to me."  
  
"What?"   
  
"He said he was... he said he was going to walk along the Seine." He shook his head. "Does that make any sense to you?"  
  
Sarah frowned. It was a reference, that much she knew, but as to what...  
  
"Not offhand, but maybe I'll figure it out later." She bought a small bottle of karberry wine and stuck it in her purse. "Thank you."  
  
Now she was racking her exhausted brain to puzzle out the meaning. It had something to do with Earth, that name was familiar. Something she'd heard him say once...  
  
No. Not say, she realized with a sudden flash of triumph. Sing. Something she'd heard him sing.  
  
She ran to the TARDIS library room.  
  
The Doctor had an old fashioned Victrola there, along with an impressive collection of records dating back from the 1930's up to 2007 when Earth had finally stopped making phonogram recordings. She began flipping through the records, exasperated once again that they were not in alphabetical or any other sort of recognizable order, but grouped in a way that only made sense to the Doctor. How in the world was she supposed to know where to look?  
  
She drew a deep breath. Calm down.. Think. For once, try to think like the Doctor and not like Sarah Jane Smith.  
  
Well. He sometimes ordered things by planet. No, not in this case. By genre? No, too straightforward. Blast. If I was a Time Lord, how would I organize my records?  
  
The answer came to her so suddenly and easily she laughed.  
  
"By the time period!" She exclaimed aloud in delight.  
  
She glanced through the first batch. Duke Ellington, Glen Miller, Billie Holliday, Johnny Mercer, Nat King Cole... yes! All 40's and 50's artists! Now, she only had to figure out the decade of the song, or who sang it. It could take some doing: the collection was vast. The Doctor had around 500 records easy. And time wasn't on her side at the moment. But at least she knew how to begin.  
  
Watch it, Doctor, she thought to herself. One day I might be able to puzzle you out!  
  
Finally she found it. As her eyes burned and her throat was parched and her initial triumph fading, she found it.  
  
"You will find your love/When you walk along the Seine..."  
  
She played that verse over several times. She didn't understand it. Why would the Doctor have used this line? The Seine was on Earth, in Paris. It was a river. They were by a sea. It made no sense, unless...   
  
Unless he wasn't really talking about the Seine. Maybe it was his way of saying he was going to walk along the seashore here. But still, why? What was he going to find?  
  
"Blast you, Doctor!" She sighed aloud. There was at times no telling what he meant. He was infuriating, complicated to the nth power, exasperative, mystifying, and, and...  
  
"And I love him so much it hurts," she whispered.   
  
She'd never said it before: not to Harry, certainly not to him, not even to herself. She'd managed to avoid putting it into words, ruthlessly pushing it down. He was a Time Lord. Over seven hundred years old. He understood every language and easily had the wisdom and knowledge of a hundred "doctors." She was a human, a journalist whose most exciting adventure before him had been witnessing a robbery. How could she possibly hope to get him to notice her as more than just Sarah Jane Smith, "old girl," faithful admiring companion? She'd always thought it as likely as peace breaking out in the galaxy. So she'd kept silent.  
  
But now he'd kissed her...  
  
She rubbed her hand absently across her lips. Her skin seemed too hot. She could still feel the cool velvet touch of his, the touch that had seared her like a brand. It had probably meant nothing to him. But it had meant everything to her. What was she supposed to do now? How could she go back to being who she'd been with the memory of him tasting like tangerine copper burned into her memory?   
  
There was something warm and wet on her face. Sarah blinked several times and discovered that she was crying. Well, it doesn't matter, she thought fiercely. He needed her, even if he didn't want to admit it or have her endure it. She couldn't abandon him. No matter what he'd ordered her to do, she could not stand by any longer and let him sink deeper into whatever hell he'd created. She would go to him, talk to him, help him. No matter what.  
  
She left the TARDIS, locking it behind her. She wasn't far from the sea. She hoped he would still be there. She hoped he'd not done anything mad: like, well, go mad. What if he had? She stopped. Her hands flew to her face, clutched handfuls of her long brown curls. What if he'd gone to the sea to end it all?  
  
NO!  
  
She ran so fast she couldn't feel the ground beneath her feet. 


	5. When the Bough Breaks, Part 5

WHEN THE BOUGH BREAKS, PART 5  
  
"If you could feel how I must feel/The winds of quiet change/If you could see what I must see/Still hidden in the rain/But when the thunder rolls/It comes and covers up my soul/And you will take my hand/And be with me in wonderland/I am an honest man/ I need the love of you/I am a working man/I feel the winter too."  
  
Big Country, "Wonderland," from the "Wonderland" EP, copyright 1984 by Big Country. Lyrics used w/o permission.  
  
The winds had died down now: his scarf no longer tried to strangle him as he slowly walked along the shore. He'd always loved the sea here: the water wasn't the blue of Earth water but a rich violet. The gently rolling waves made him think of a field of lilacs, or irises. He did so love irises. How long had it been since he'd seen any, smelled any? Days? Weeks? Decades? His alcohol consumption had caused everything to blur together. He wasn't complaining: that was exactly what he'd wanted. He didn't want to remember the day the Kiwmons had destroyed Somara Five, or the night the Titanic had sunk and he's been helpless, unable to save the passengers and crew lest he alter history. He wanted to push all of that so far back into his collective mental closets it would never see the light again.  
  
He lifted the bottle to his lips. "Some dance to remember/some dance to forget," he murmured, quoting a popular song by a popular 1970's Earth band. He took a large gulp, gasping as the icy liquid streamed down his throat. Good stuff, this fehg. Similar to rum but sweeter. He sighed as it took him one step closer to oblivion. Soon he'd be lucky to remember his name. Not that it mattered. No one ever used his real name, especially him. It reminded him of another time, another place, and a being that he no longer was.   
  
He started humming the Eagles song, twirling in circles every few steps as he resumed walking. It was a lovely twilight, the moon would be rising soon, that marvelous pale green moon. There was so much color on this planet, so different from Earth. So why did the Earth keep creeping like an ivy vine back into his thoughts? He could almost feel his mind being entwined, crushed with the weight of his UNIT work.  
  
"Obviously I need to drink more," he said. And he proceeded to do just that. He knew it was simple, crude, and pure escapism. And he didn't care.  
  
Time dissolved for him, washed over him and back out again until it had no meaning. There was only the sand and the sea. He walked, skipped, sang. Finally the alcohol caught up with him and he grew tired. Instead of heading back to his room, he flopped down onto the sand, pulling his coat snugly around him and using his scarf as a pillow. For some reason a line from a Robert Frost poem struck him: "I have miles to go before I sleep." But he didn't. He'd traveled his miles. He'd reached his destination. Lulled by the sound of the water and the forlorn cries of birds, he curled up and gave himself over to his dreams.  
  
"Blast," Sarah swore softly.   
  
She'd been walking for what seemed like an eternity, scanning the shore for any sign of the Doctor. He wasn't in his room. She'd gone to the inn and found that much out. She knew what she was doing was going against his request for solitude. She also knew that she didn't give a fig. She'd made up her mind to find him and help him, and that was exactly what she was going to do even if she had to fight him every step of the way.  
  
A bit of color caught the corner of her eye, and she turned, squinting in the fading daylight. An unmistakable figure lie on his side, half obscured by the scarf. There was not a twitch of movement.   
  
She gasped. No, oh, no, please no, don't let it be too late!  
  
"Doctor!" She screamed, and broke into a run.  
  
The Doctor squinted, jerked in his sleep. Something was shaking him, calling to him, trying to pull him from his dreams. They were lovely dreams, of fields of cream-colored butterflies and honey. He curled into himself, but it didn't stop.  
  
"Go away, I'm sleeping," he mumbled.  
  
"Doctor! Wake up! I mean it!"  
  
Sarah shook his shoulders harder. At least he was alive. Drunk out of his skull, but alive.   
  
"I SAID, I'm sleeping," he answered.  
  
"And I said, WAKE UP!"  
  
It was no good. The butterflies flew away from his outstretched hands, the honey turned to tar. With a groan, he opened his eyes.  
  
"Why did you wake me?" He snarled.  
  
She jumped at the anger in his voice, but didn't turn away. "You passed out. You're drunk, and cold, and you need to stop this."  
  
"I am perfectly fine, thank you," he answered with some asperity. His bloodshot blue eyes narrowed. "I told you to stay away from me. Didn't I tell you to stay away from me?"  
  
"Yes, you did. And I don't give a damn about that!"  
  
His eyes widened. He'd never heard her use that word or take that tone with him. His voice softened as he reached out a hand to touch her cheek.  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
"Because you need me. Whether you know it or will admit it or not. It's not good for you, this drowning your sorrows by drinking."  
  
"Why not?" He asked tiredly. "O, other people can drink, but not the Doctor. No, the Doctor has to be a model being, a paragon of virtue and all things good. I'm not allowed to have dreams, or desires, is that it? Saving lives is all I'm good for?"  
  
She was stunned by the sadness and longing in his voice. "No, that's not what I mean. I just mean that... you're hurting yourself, doing this."  
  
"Am I? By whose definition, hmm?" He asked silkily.  
  
She shook her head. There was going to be no talking with him while he was like this. "Would you please come back with me to town?" She asked quietly.   
  
"What for?"  
  
"So I can put you to bed."  
  
A wicked grin spread across his face. "Why, Miss Smith. I never thought you'd offer."  
  
"You wish," she retorted, but his words made her tremble. She slipped an arm under his shoulders and with a small grunt pulled him to his feet. "Come on, then. You can sleep this off and we'll talk."  
  
He sighed, but made no attempt to resist her efforts, swaying slightly as he walked beside her. "No one bothered Rasputin when he went on a binge," he muttered.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said, no one bothered Rasputin when he went on a binge."  
  
"Maybe if someone had, his life would have turned out differently," Sarah snapped.  
  
He sighed. "It's always the same. No one understands."  
  
"All I understand is that you're drunk!"  
  
"I am NOT drunk!" He protested.  
  
"Really? Then what would you call it?"  
  
"I call it: Memory Suppression."  
  
"Well, I call it stupid. Now come on."  
  
It was dark when they got back. As they approached the inn the Doctor suddenly stopped and pointed upward. "Look, Sarah!"  
  
She stopped and looked.   
  
He was pointing at the moon. Not just any moon. A full moon of palest green, edged with silver. It was the first night of it being this way. She remembered the Doctor telling her the moon would stay full for ten days once it turned. A lovely sight indeed. But she had more important things to do at the moment.  
  
"Yes, it's very nice," she told him. "Now come on, you can gaze at the moon later."  
  
He trudged on behind her, letting her lead him down the hall to his room. Once inside, she locked the door and gently sat him down on the edge of the bed. She knelt and began to untie his boots. She removed them, along with his socks, then his coat and scarf. As she put them down on a chair and moved to close the drapes she heard a rustling sound. She turned to see that he'd removed his shirt. Her heart skipped several beats as she stared at the smooth expanse of skin with the short dark tendrils of curly hair trailing down from his navel towards his...  
  
Stop! She ordered herself.   
  
He stretched out on the bed, not covering himself, and gave her a lazy grin. "Aren't you going to read me a bedtime story?" He asked, his voice a sensual purr.  
  
She swallowed hard. Beat, beat damn you! She ordered her heart. This is no time for you to give out on me!  
  
"I don't think you need any stories tonight," she told him, and was proud of how cool her voice sounded. She hesitantly crossed the room to him. "But I will keep an eye on you."  
  
"Splendid." He was tired, or sleepy, or both. His eyes flickered. He reached out and took her hand in one of his. "Sarah," he whispered.  
  
She moved to kneel on the floor beside the bed. "What, Doctor?" She asked.  
  
"I kissed you," he informed her.  
  
She laughed. "Yes, I'm well aware of that."  
  
"I shouldn't have done it that way. I should have..."  
  
She wanted to weep.  
  
"I should have waited... waited until the moon was full to kiss you... it would've been much more romantic..." He murmured.  
  
Now she knew her heart had stopped. And when it started beating again it no longer belonged to her. It belonged to him, completely and utterly to him.  
  
She choked back a cry, a laugh. "We can talk about that later, Doctor, when you're well." She brushed a lock of curls from his eyes and lightly kissed his forehead.  
  
He was still mumbling. "Yes, full moons are much more romantic, I remember once in Venice at the Cinezetta..." His eyes closed and his breathing slowed with sleep.  
  
Sarah drew a ragged breath. She wiped her now trembling hands on her pants, then seated herself in one of the chairs, watching him. She was suddenly worn out down to the bone, and wanted nothing more than to get some rest. But she knew it would be a long time before she could fall asleep. 


	6. When the Bough Breaks, Part 6

WHEN THE BOUGH BREAKS, PART 6  
  
Thanks to all who've R&R'd so far, with special thanks to Kittenmommy for recommending the song lyrics used for this section!  
  
"Me and Sarah Jane/ We had it coming/ All the pain/Walking down the streets and finding nothing is the same/Me and Sarah Jane/In silence, walk along the shore/Tears of joy, and mocking laughter/ Words lost in the wind/The tide was rising but there we stayed/We had no fear of dying, we weren't afraid."  
  
"Me and Sarah Jane," by Genesis, from the "Abacab" album, copyright by Genesis, lyric used w/o permission.  
  
Sarah was dreaming.  
  
She was at a fancy dress party. Except it wasn't much of a party, because she was the only one there. The ballroom was lit by large white candles and shadows swept along the walls and ornate stained glass windows. She glanced at her reflection in a mirror. She was dressed in a pale blue satin gown, her hair swept up. She looked all right: in fact, she looked beautiful. It surprised her: she usually didn't think of herself that way. But here she was, looking smashing, all alone. Story of my life, I suppose, she thought.  
  
Her back was to a set of ornately carved wooden doors, but she heard them open and whirled in surprise and fear.   
  
The Doctor stood framed in the doorway. He wore a long dark blue velvet coat with tails, a crisp white shirt, a burgundy satin vest, and black gloves. A black top hat concealed much of his hair. He carried a black walking stick. He smiled and walked towards her. As he did, the doors swung shut, and she heard faint strains of music that gradually began to get louder. When he was only about two feet away from her he suddenly used the stick to push his top hat off his head, and sent both items flying across the room. The music was in full swing now, a waltz she didn't recognize. He reached out and took her hand, pulling her against him. She gasped as he fitted her body to his.  
  
He danced superbly; sweeping her along the floor with such ease and grace she hardly felt her body move. Her hands had crept up to his neck of their own accord, resting on his shoulders. All the time they danced he smiled at her, but didn't say a word. Neither did she: there was nothing she felt she should say.  
  
On and on they danced. She felt breathless and giddy. It was a moment for them and them alone, nothing to separate them, just him and her together...  
  
The doors burst open.  
  
They were everywhere. They swarmed into the room. Daleks and Cybermen and Kralls and the cultists of Mandragora and Sutek and the Wyrm and Morbius. They surged forward and seized the Doctor, pulling him from her arms. She gasped in horror, trying to pull him back.  
  
"NO! No, you can't take him from me!" She cried.  
  
She pulled with all her might, but they dragged him away, lifting him and carrying him up high while she ran after them, kicked and punching and screaming all the while. "You can't take him! Stop! Give him back!"  
  
Insanely, she realized the music was still going. She looked in despair at the Doctor's face. He smiled at her with a sad, resigned smile, as if to say: 'well, what can I do?'  
  
"No," she whispered. "Don't."  
  
They sailed out the doors, leaving her alone.   
  
"DON'T!" She shrieked, pounding on the doors with both fists. She slid down to the floor, sobbing helplessly as though she was dying. "Doctor..."  
  
She flung her head back and screamed as loud as she could, a scream filled with rage and pain. "DOCTOR!"  
  
She bolted awake with a strangled cry. She was on the bed. How did she get on the bed?  
  
Her body was covered with a light sheen of sweat. She gasped for breath, clutching her hands to her chest. From behind her she felt cool hands encircle her waist. She jumped with a sharp cry. "No!"  
  
"Sarah! Stop."  
  
It was the Doctor. She sighed, relaxing. He drew her back until she rested against his bare chest, then wrapped his arms around her. She felt her heart thudding against him, going even faster than both of his in the aftermath of her nightmare. His breath stirred her hair as she twisted slightly so she could rest her head on his shoulder and press her face into his neck.  
  
"Nightmare?" He asked.  
  
She nodded.  
  
"It's been awhile since that's happened," he said thoughtfully.  
  
"Not long enough," she replied.  
  
"Want to talk about it?"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
He sighed, repositioning her in his lap. "And you say I'm stubborn," he laughed.  
  
"You are," she retorted.  
  
"Takes one to know one, missy."  
  
She managed a chuckle, reveling in the feel of her body pressed to his. After a few minutes she felt calm. She made to move, but the Doctor only tightened his hold. "It's all right," he murmured. She sank back, trembling as she felt his hands stroking her hair.   
  
"Why, Sarah?" He asked softly.  
  
"Why what?"  
  
"Why did you come back, knowing I'd told you to stay away from me." There was no anger in his voice, only curiosity.  
  
"I don't always do what I'm told," she answered saucily, and was rewarded by a laugh. "Seriously, though. I came back because... well, like I said. You need me here."  
  
"Can you say that, knowing that I might hurt you?" He turned her around so that she was facing him and stared into her eyes.   
  
"I want to help you," she whispered.  
  
"You can't."  
  
"Rubbish!"  
  
"What can you do? What can you do that I won't do, or haven't already done?"  
  
"You can talk to me."  
  
"What if that isn't enough? What if my talking turns to shouting?"  
  
"I don't care."  
  
"And what if-"  
  
"What if, what if! What if the dish runs away with the spoon? Stop worrying about the "what if's" and focus on the right now!"  
  
She glared at him, causing him to chuckle. "I didn't know you could be so feisty."  
  
"Well it's time you learned."  
  
"I just don't want to hurt you."  
  
"I know what you don't want. How about thinking positive?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Instead of telling me what you don't want, why don't you tell me what you do want?"  
  
"What I want?"  
  
"Yes. You said something earlier about having dreams and desires. What are they?"  
  
"I want..." His face grew pensive.  
  
"Yes?" She asked. He hesitated, and she ran her hands through his hair, massaging his temples and scalp. He let out a tiny moan. "Tell me," she said quietly.  
  
He spoke in a hushed, hesitant voice. "I want to run barefoot on the beach at Velhon Five. I want to work a crossword with a pen. The New York Times Sunday version, preferably. I want to see the solar energy waves pass through the sky of Epsilon. I want to have lunch with Da Vinci and Newton and Copernicus and Robert Frost. I want to learn to play the kazoo."  
  
He reached up and took her hands in his, gazing deep into her eyes. "I want to taste marmalade and drink dandelion tea. I want a silk dressing gown in dark red. I want to roast marshmallows on Omicron Twelve."  
  
He lowered his eyes, then looked back at her. "I want to understand love. Really understand what it means to love a woman. You, Sarah. I want to learn... with you." 


	7. When the Bough Breaks, Part 7

When the Bough Breaks, Part 7  
  
WARNING: This part contains a prequel to the previously mentioned sexual situations. If you don't want to read about it, run, run away. Otherwise, enjoy. But don't say I didn't warn you! This is a shorter section, but the next one will make up for it.  
  
"You, say everything's clear in time/You, make it a matter of why/You, don't play the inguinal part/And oh, you've just gone straight to my heart/And I want to tell you/But I guess I'm still too proud/So I've gotta be so quiet/And I've gotta be so still/And I've gotta be so cool/Let me tell you about an act of will/And I've gotta show such care/And I've gotta be so aware/Wanna hear about a constant fight/I'm gonna give myself away one night."  
  
"So Quiet, So Still" by Natalie Archangel. Copyright by Natalie Archangel. Lyrics used w/o permission.  
  
"You. you."  
  
Sarah tried to form a coherent sentence, but she could barely think. She must have heard him wrong! Surely he didn't just sit there and look at her and say.  
  
He grinned at her open mouthed big-eyed expression. "Do watch it, you're liable to catch a fly."  
  
She partly closed her mouth, still staring at him in fear and wonder. "Ooo," she uttered, the sound somewhere between joy and pain. Her brows knitted and scrunched together as she drew a shaky breath.  
  
"Well, don't knock yourself out to say something, Sarah," he said. His tone was teasing, but his eyes were not. Not quite. They were worried. He was worried. Had he misjudged the situation? Had the kiss really not meant to her what he thought, what he hoped it had? A chilling thought struck him. What if she leaves me now? What if I've just made a horrible mistake?  
  
"Sarah," he began anxiously.  
  
Her laughter cut him off. He peered at her cautiously and saw her smiling, no, beaming would be a better word. And she kept laughing. Finally he couldn't stand anymore. "Well, I'm glad to know that my declaration of feelings has amused you so much," he sniffed.  
  
"No, no! You don't understand!" She grabbed his arms, her laughter subsiding, but she was still smiling at him. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because. I didn't believe this could happen."  
  
"Whatever do you mean?"  
  
She blew out a breath, hands curling on his arms as she searched for the right words. "I never thought you could care for me," she said quietly. "I never thought I could be anything more to you than Sarah Jane Smith, your faithful adoring companion. I thought." Her voice quivered and trailed off, and the Doctor was stunned to see tears in her eyes. He reached up and clasped her hands in his. "What, Sarah? You thought what?"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"Please tell me," he whispered.  
  
"I never thought you could. you could love a."  
  
"A what?"  
  
She shook her head again, and his eyes softened. "A human? Is that it? You didn't think a great Time Lord could have feelings for a lowly human?"  
  
She nodded, looking down, ashamed at her idea but unable to deny it. She waited timidly for him to become angry, but he only chuckled, a rich, heartrending sound.  
  
"Oh, Sarah," he sighed. "We both have much to learn."  
  
She sniffed, reclaiming one of hers hands to wipe at the tears on her face. "Well, that's hardly a surprise for my end," she said with a short laugh.  
  
He reached down and took her tears away himself, caressing her face with his large cool hand until the glistening drops were gone. Then he stared at her with an intensity that made her quake inside. "Listen to me, Sarah," he said softly but firmly. "You are not, I repeat, not a lowly human, or a lowly anything else. Why do you think I've traveled with humans as much as I have? Granted, your race has some collective maturing to do, but that's to be said of any of us. Including Time Lords. We weren't always the picture of civility, you know. And I'm still learning, the same as you. I've been around much longer than you, Sarah. That doesn't mean you're stupid. You're actually one of the brightest humans I've ever met."  
  
"Oh, now you're just trying to butter me up," she scoffed, but secretly his words made her indescribably happy.  
  
"Now would I do a thing like that?"  
  
She giggled. His eyes were wide as saucers, affecting that innocent look he so often wore. "You certainly would!"  
  
"I'm shocked that you would think so." He affected a look of mock offense. "I believe that some redress is in order for that statement."  
  
"Oh? And just what do you have in mind?" She teased.  
  
He pulled her to him, brushing a curl away before wrapping both arms gently around her waist. They were close, as close as they'd been the day they parted. She stared into his eyes, those large mesmerizing dark blue eyes. She felt her breath quicken, felt her body tremble in response to his nearness, his touch. He smiled at her, one of his slow lazy smiles that seemed to take a week to appear.  
  
"Something along the lines of this," he whispered. And he kissed her. 


	8. When the Bough Breaks, Part 8A

WHEN THE BOUGH BREAKS, PART 8A  
  
WARNING: (or, the moment you've been waiting for, depending on your point of view) This is the first part of the R rated sex-tion! I'm serious, now: if you don't want to read about the Doctor and Sarah going at it, skip these parts and start reading again with the next chapter. You have been warned, now, haven't you? Right, on with the show, then!  
  
"If I fall along the way/Pick me up and dust me off/And if I get too tired to make it/Be my breath so I can walk/If I need some other love, then/Give me more than I can stand/And when my smile gets old and faded/Wait around I'll smile again/Shouldn't be so complicated/Just touch me and then/Just touch me again/Can you help me I'm bent/I'm so scared that I'll never/Get put back together/You're breaking me in/And this is how we will end/Start bending me/It's never enough/I feel all your pieces/Start bending me/Keep bending me until I'm completely broken in."  
  
"Bent," by Matchbox Twenty, from the "Mad Season" album, copyright by Matchbox Twenty, lyrics used w/o permission.  
  
The world had stopped.  
  
Actually, more than the world. The entire universe had just decided to take a holiday. Her awareness had narrowed until all she knew, all that existed for her, was the taste of his mouth. That sweet, metallic taste she'd experienced for the first time-had it really been just a few days ago? It felt like years now, centuries. In one of the few instances since she'd began her travels with the Doctor, Sarah sensed how time passed so differently for him. What amounted to her adulthood was only the blink of an eye to him, if that much. With all the things he'd seen and done, small wonder he felt as if he was turning into a loony.  
  
That thought brought her up sharp. She would not, not allow that to happen. She would stay with him, even if he did start shouting. She had two hands, didn't she? One to cover each ear. The thought made her giggle.  
  
"I know I'm not very experienced at this, but that's hardly encouraging," the Doctor murmured against her mouth.  
  
She pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes. "Sorry." "Are you, Sarah?"  
  
"Am I want?"  
  
"Sorry." His face was grave.  
  
"What, that we're. Doctor! Now I know you've gone round the bend!"  
  
"Well, you did start laughing," he pointed out.  
  
She pulled him tightly against her. "You're not going anywhere, Doctor, so don't even think about it!"  
  
"Well, I hadn't until you had a fit of the vapors," he replied, grinning again now that he realized that, whatever Sarah had laughed about, it wasn't his kissing technique.  
  
"Good. I'm glad you realize who's in charge here," she said primly.  
  
"Yes, I do indeed seem to be caught in your clutches," he replied. When she raised an eyebrow at him he added: "Notice, however, that I'm not trying to escape."  
  
"Mmm, a wise decision on your part," she told him, struggling to adopt a serious tone. "Otherwise, there would be... consequences." She lowered her voice on the last word, caressing it.  
  
"Really? I rather like consequences!" He beamed.  
  
"Not these, you wouldn't!" She laughed. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, then began to slowly work her way around his face, lips soft and moist against his skin.  
  
"If you say so," he murmured. Her breath was hot and the touch of her lips was beginning to send tiny fissures of desire through him.  
  
She stopped and looked at him. "There is something, though, one thing, I want to ask you."  
  
"Only one? I must be slipping."  
  
"Come on, then!" She said. "I'm serious!"  
  
"Yes, well, let me assume the proper posture." He folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head slightly to the side. "There. All right, serious away!"  
  
"Ooo, you," she muttered. She shook her head. "All right, then. I thought that, well that is, I didn't know if." She felt a flush creep up her cheeks and stopped.  
  
He wasn't trying to second-guess her. Not in this. "What?"  
  
"Well, are you, I mean, can you."  
  
"For goodness sake, Sarah, spit it out," he said with a smile.  
  
"Can you have sex with a human?" She blurted.  
  
It took him a second to understand what she meant. When he did his grin nearly ran off the sides of his face.  
  
"It's just that I know what you told me about how Time Lords are loomed," she said quickly. "That you reproduce scientifically. I wasn't sure if."  
  
"If my equipment is in working order?"  
  
Her blush deepened and she glanced down. "That's one way to put it, I suppose."  
  
"Yes, well, most Gallifreyans do choose technology as their reproductive method." He tipped her head up so she was looking at him again. "But you know I'm not exactly your run-of-the-mill Time Lord."  
  
"I know," she said with a nervous laugh.  
  
"Good." He smiled gently, then his eyes darkened a bit. " I wouldn't have started this, Sarah, if I couldn't finish it."  
  
She nodded. "I'm sorry," she told him quietly.  
  
"Don't be sorry. It was a valid question." His eyes searched her face. "I hope that I gave you a valid answer."  
  
"Yes, you did," she assured him.  
  
"Wonderful. Now, since we've gotten all that settled."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'd very much like for you to go back to what you were doing."  
  
"What, you mean. this?" She teased, running her tongue gently along the tip of an ear.  
  
He gasped softly. "Yes, I mean that."  
  
"Well, since you put it that way." 


	9. When the Bough Breaks, Part 8B

WHEN THE BOUGH BREAKS PART 8B  
  
Ok, kids, now this bit is really and truly rated R! A Time Lord's normal body temperature is around 60 degrees Fahrenheit, so I've read. A human's is 98.6. It's about to become very warm in the Doctor's room. Ye have been warned.  
  
Oh, and one request. Not to sound whiny, but would some of you please give me some feedback on how this part is going? I've never written Dr. Who, let alone Dr. Who sex, and I'm worried I might be mucking this up. Thank you!  
  
Passion. Lust. Desire.  
  
Those "other" emotions. Ones he didn't have much experience with. He understood them as an abstract concept. But up close and personal: well, there hadn't been much point in it before. Or much opportunity. He'd held each of his companions very dear to his hearts. But it hadn't really occurred to him to be anything more than a friend to them. There had been no real urge to expand the relationship into something more.  
  
All that had changed with Sarah. When he'd first realized his feelings for her were more complex than friendship, more evolved than companionship, he'd been stunned. And because she'd never given any hint that she felt the same, he'd kept it on that more uncomplicated level. And things had been all right: had been grand, really. Until a few days ago when he'd started to unravel.  
  
THAT was not good. Discovering that Sarah shared his feelings. THAT was good.  
  
Especially right now, when she was doing the most amazing things to his ear with her tongue. As she darted that tongue slightly into his ear and slowly withdrew it he shivered. He realized that, although he'd had deeper feelings for her than friendship for a while now, he'd never really seen her in a sexual way before that kiss. Now she was very female, very sexual to him. A part of his mind began analyzing how his perception of her could have altered so dramatically so quickly.  
  
Sarah slid her hands down to the buttons of his black flannel shirt, an action that quickly made it difficult to focus on anything other than what she was doing. He watched her long slim fingers tug open the first button, and the next, and the next.  
  
"Sarah," he said.  
  
"Hush," she replied.  
  
"No, listen to me. Are you sure?"  
  
Her answer was to undo the final button and peel the shirt away from his chest. She smoothed aside the layers of material, her dark eyes drinking in the sight of his exposed skin. She ran the palms of her hands down his muscles to the flat plane of his stomach and back up again, watching the expressions that crossed his face. It was obvious that he wasn't used to being touched: every inch her fingers slid along his flesh caused him to twitch. She smiled. "Does that answer your question?" She asked.  
  
"Quite," he gasped.  
  
She gently pressed him down on the bed until he was stretched out on his back with her straddling him. She continued to caress his bare chest with her fingertips a bit longer before she leaned over him and licked his left nipple. His eyes closed and a low sigh escaped him. She flicked her tongue over the sensitive nub again, then took it into her mouth and very gently sucked on it. He jerked slightly and moaned.  
  
She continued her assault on the other side, then brushed each thumb over a nipple as she trailed her mouth in damp circles from his collarbone to the waistband of his trousers. He was twisting beneath her, breath coming out in small pants. She grinned. He was a babe in the woods, a babe who was about to meet a wolf.  
  
He opened his eyes as he felt her unzipping his trousers, raised his head slightly to watch and discovered that she was staring at him intently. Her eyes never leaving his, she slid them down and off his body. He laid back and shut his eyes again, enjoying the feeling of her touch. She gazed at him from head to toe. and abruptly giggled.  
  
He shot up on the bed with an indignant expression. "DO YOU MIND!"  
  
She pushed him back down with a laugh. "Black! All black!"  
  
He titled his head, puzzled. "What?"  
  
"All black! Your shirt, your shoes, your pants. even your underwear is black! When did you decide to become the Gothic Time Lord poster child?"  
  
"Oh. that. I'll have you know black is very fashionable! Goes with anything, never out of style."  
  
"Right. Then why don't you wear black all the time and not tweed and burgundy?"  
  
He settled down, eyes flicking over her as he considered the question. "I suppose I never felt the urge to," he said at length.  
  
Her expression darkened. She didn't have to be a Time Lord to understand the symbolism of black. Sadness, mourning. He'd never felt like doing those things. Until now.  
  
"Yes, well, let's see if we can't get you to feel the urge to wear something a bit more cheery, eh?" She smiled at him as she slowly snaked her fingers under the elastic waistband of his boxers.  
  
"There is nothing wrong with.Rassilon's Sash! What ARE you doing!" He gasped, feeling as if a fire had suddenly been started in his groin.  
  
Sarah grinned at him, her fingers still curving around his member. "Oh, did you like that?" She asked innocently. Outside, she was cool as a cucumber. Inside, she was having fits.  
  
"Like that, indeed!" He exclaimed. He was about to say more, but she stroked him again, a smooth quick slide of her hand. The words caught in his throat and were replaced by a moan. She bent over him, capturing his mouth with hers at the exact same moment that she caressed him once more. Her tongue slid past his parted lips, explored the inside of his mouth as her hands explored the length of his shaft. He wasn't fully aroused yet, but he had definitely bought a ticket!  
  
She chuckled. "You Time Lords do take some extra effort to start up, don't you!"  
  
If he voiced a reply, it was muffled by her kisses. She traveled down his body and back up again, caressing him, getting to know the texture and tastes of him, from sweet and spiced to where he had a tiny patch of freckles on his left shoulder blade. Her hands and lips and teeth and tongue explored the angles of his arms, the clean lines of his legs, the dark curls of hair on his lower stomach. She stroked his elbows, his eyebrows, his feet. Gently, she wound him into a state of relaxed desire, not stopping her attentions until he was trembling beneath her. Only then did she remove the last barrier, her eyes soft and full of longing as he raised his hips to help her strip the piece of clothing away.  
  
"Sarah."  
  
His voice was so dark, so deep it made her shiver. Her hands skimmed down him until they came to rest at the junction of his thighs. She felt him tremble again as she settled her hands on his hips. There seemed to be a questioning in his eyes, something he wanted to say, or to hear her say.  
  
"Doctor? What's wrong?" She asked.  
  
"Nothing," he replied.  
  
"You have that look about you."  
  
"I was. I just." His voice trailed off uncertainly.  
  
"Come on, out with it. It's not like you've got anything left to be shy about," she teased.  
  
To her amazement he seemed to be at a loss for words. "Well," he began finally, hesitantly, "I know humans have a concept of physical beauty."  
  
"And Time Lords don't?" She asked, surprised.  
  
He shook his head. " Yes, but not in the same sense. Beauty to us is more, how can I explain it, seen by our minds and hearts than with our eyes. We see what's inside the package, not just the wrapping, so to speak. But humans aren't always like that."  
  
"We usually go by looks, care more about style than substance, you mean." She nodded. "I can't disagree with you there: it's an obsession. But why did you." Understanding dawned on her. "You want to know if I. if I find you attractive?"  
  
He shrugged, a casual gesture, but the casualness was belied by his words. "I've never asked anyone. It never mattered before, you see."  
  
"Oh, Doctor," she said. She wanted to laugh again, but she suspected he'd had quite enough of that from her already. Instead she kissed him, and taking his face in her hands, looked deeply into his eyes and said: "I think you're the most gorgeous thing alive, man or Time Lord."  
  
Her reply stunned him, she could tell. He half looked as if he thought she was pulling his leg. She continued. "You know, when I look at you, I don't just see what you look like. I see the person you are: the one who tries to help others, who's gentle and kind, who makes me laugh. All that's part of who you are to me. And it just makes you all the brighter in my eyes."  
  
His slightly wary expression melted into a warm smile. "Thank you, Sarah. That means a great deal to me."  
  
She didn't have time to reply: with a swift catlike movement he neatly flipped them over so that she was on her back beneath him. "What the devil are you playing at?" She laughed.  
  
"It just occurred to me that this arrangement is rather unbalanced," he informed her.  
  
"Oh? How's that?"  
  
He licked his lips and grinned. "One of us has entirely too many clothes on." 


	10. When the Bough Breaks, Part 8C

WHEN THE BOUGH BREAKS, PART 8C  
  
Many thanks to everyone who posted feedback on these last parts! I hope this continues to delight. Still rated "R." And yes, Kittenmommy, I see your point. But I still want to see you write one!   
  
"Too many clothes on, eh?" Sarah said. "I guess that would be me, then."  
  
"Well you ARE the only other person in this room, and seeing as how I'm in the altogether, I believe that's a very good deduction on your part," the Doctor smiled.  
  
She watched as he slid his hands up her body, slowly pulling her blouse away to reveal a pale pink bra with lace trim. He added her blouse to the pile of clothing of the floor before turning back to consider her. Her breasts were small, firm: he could see the outline of her nipples pressing against the silky cloth. Sarah closed her eyes and arched invitingly. And waited. And waited.  
  
After a moment she opened one eye to look up at him. "Doctor?"  
  
He sighed. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I'm making a complete mess of this, aren't I?"  
  
"What? Why are you saying that!" She sat up and gazed at him.  
  
He plucked at her arms, then dropped his hands to his sides. "I wasn't joking when I said I'm not very experienced with this."  
  
She smiled and gently brushed a tangle of curls away from his face. "Doctor. that's not important."  
  
He jerked his head up. "It's not?"  
  
"No. What's important to me is that you're trying; you're sharing yourself with me. I'm not exactly an expert myself, you know!"  
  
"You'd never have convinced ME of that!" He replied with an answering smile.  
  
She looked down, turning slightly pink. "Well, I'm a journalist. Research is my specialty!" She looked up again when he laughed.  
  
"I see." He kissed her. "Perhaps I should conduct some research of my own, then." "Mmm. Such as?"  
  
He eased her back down on the bed. "Such as, what it feels like for you when I do this."  
  
He lowered his head and kissed her breasts through the thin material of the bra, causing her to gasp and sigh. He raised his head, a look of pleasure of his face mirroring the expression on hers. "Well, THAT seems to have been a success."  
  
"Mm, Doctor, you need to talk less and act more!"  
  
He gave a dramatic sigh. "That's what everyone else says, too!"  
  
"Well in this instance they're right!" She chuckled.  
  
He smiled again before returning his attention to her breasts, gently kissing and licking them until she thought she would go mad. Just as she thought she could stand no more, he reached under her and she felt his hands at the clasp of her bra. He made a soft sound that was part annoyed, part curious. A few seconds later the bra unclasped and he slowly slid it off her, baring her from the waist up.  
  
Now it was Sarah's turn to wonder. how did she look to him?  
  
"You're beautiful."  
  
She stared at him. "Are you reading my mind?"  
  
He shook his head. "No, I'd never do that without your permission unless it was an emergency. But I don't need to be reading your mind to know you were wondering."  
  
"Oh." She felt sheepish. "Had that look about me, did I?"  
  
"Quite so. That and it seemed a natural question under the circumstances."  
  
"Well, it's not like you've ever told me before," she said.  
  
"Yes, that's true," he replied absently. "Once it wouldn't have occurred to me to look at you that way. And when I found that I was."  
  
"Yes?" She breathed.  
  
"I couldn't tell you."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I wasn't sure if you felt the same way," he said simply. "I'd never have wanted to lose you as a friend if you didn't."  
  
He half expected her to get irritated by this, but she only looked at him and nodded with an expression of understanding. "I was the same way."  
  
"Well. Lucky for us I lost some of my marbles then, isn't it? Or we might not have found out."  
  
"I'd not call it luck, Doctor."  
  
"True enough." His face grew pensive. "But if it had to happen. at least something good has come out of it."  
  
Sarah was getting anxious. She had to pull him out of this mood before it settled in. "Speaking of something good." she stretched and arched her back, knowing full well the picture she'd present.  
  
Her movements weren't wasted. "You sly minx," he whispered, lowering his head to her breasts again.  
  
He slowly stroked, nuzzled, kneaded and kissed, no longer worried as to whether he was doing a good job, simply letting her responses guide him.  
  
"Doctor." The word was a caress.  
  
The more she sighed, whispered, and moved against him, the bolder he became. He moved from her breasts to her arms, then her hands and fingers, kissing them, taking the digits into his mouth one by one to suck on them. She turned her head and pressed his face to her neck. He planted kisses and gentle bites along the soft skin there and was rewarded by her soft cry of pleasure. His lips and hands teased and trailed their way down to her stomach.  
  
She felt his fingers hesitate on the waistband of her pants. Wordlessly she rose up slightly, and he unfastened them and drew both the slacks and her underwear off. She lay back on the bed, hands at her sides, watching him looking at her naked form.  
  
He took his time, wanting to savor this, his first moment of seeing her entire body bared before him. She had a pleasing curve to her hips, a tiny mole near her navel, and a tangled triangle of dark curls between her legs. He wanted to know all of her, every nook and curve, wanted to etch it into his brain so deeply it would leave no room for him to think about anything else.  
  
"Nothing else matters right now," he whispered. "Only this." 


	11. When the Bough Breaks, Part 8D

WHEN THE BOUGH BREAKS, PART 8D  
  
Continued thanks to all who have reviewed this! Your comments are helping me stay motivated. Still rated R this section, The BBC still own all things Dr. Who, darn it.  
  
"Only tell me that you still want me here/When you wander off out there/To those hills of dust and hot winds that blow/In that dry white ocean alone/Lost out in the desert/You are lost out in the desert/ But to stand with you in the ring of fire/I'll forget the days gone by/I'll protect your body and guard your soul/ From mirages in your sight."  
  
"Snow on the Sahara" by Anggun, copyright by Anggun, lyrics used w/o permission.  
  
PART 8D  
  
Sarah's heart melted at his words, so quietly spoken, but with an intensity so strong she felt a few drops of tears darken her eyes, saw the Doctor look at her in alarm.  
  
"Sarah! Why are you crying? Was that."  
  
"The most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me!" She replied. She sat up and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down on top of her as she kissed him. He responded eagerly, holding her to him as though he was drowning and she was his life raft. His hands tangled in her hair, his mouth hard on hers, and she met its demands with a ferocity that equaled his own.  
  
After a few minutes, he was no longer aware of their bodies being separate things: he felt so much a part of her, and her a part of him, that he no longer knew where he ended and she began. To him they were one body, one mind, one heart, one spirit. The ache he'd had for her, for this, long buried, something he'd thought could never see the light of reality, now blazed with a purity of rightness and receded, changed into a blinding halo of surety that had every nerve in him screaming for consummation, to be part of her completely and utterly.  
  
He raised himself slightly, peering down at her with gentle eyes as he searched her face. "Are you certain, Sarah Jane?"  
  
She couldn't suppress the laughter. "Fine time to be asking me that, isn't it?"  
  
"Well, no one could accuse me of having impeccable timing, I realize," he joked. He got the look again, the "serious now" look. "I mean it, Sarah. It's not too late to stop. I'd never want you to."  
  
"Here now, what're you going on about!" She exclaimed. She gave him a stern look. "I could say the same thing to you, you know. It's not every day a human seduces a Time Lord! Are you sure that this is what YOU want, Doctor?"  
  
"More sure than I've been of anything in a long time," he replied softly. Then he seemed to process what she'd just said: his eyes widened. "Seducing a Time Lord? I thought I was doing the seducing here!"  
  
"Shows how little YOU know sometimes, doesn't it?"  
  
Her grin was so cheeky he couldn't stop himself from returning it. "Well, we've already established I'm lacking in a few areas, so I'm willing to concede the possibility."  
  
"Big of you," she interjected.  
  
".THIS time," he finished crisply. "But don't expect me to make a habit of it."  
  
"I'd never dream of it," she assured him.  
  
"Good. Now, where were we?"  
  
She laughed again. "This is wonderful!"  
  
"It is?" He looked a bit dismayed. "But I've not actually DONE anything yet!"  
  
"O yes, you have," she said. "You're taken a situation that could've been awkward and nerve-wracking and turned it into something light-hearted and joyous."  
  
He took her hands in his and kissed them. "I've had some help from you with that."  
  
"True. Two concessions in the same day, Doctor? You MUST be slipping!"  
  
"I say, you're right!" He kissed the tip of her nose and made her squeal. She looked into his face in time to see the "serious" mode switch back on. "Thank you, Sarah."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For ignoring my words. For caring so much about me you'd risk yourself for my sake. For. this."  
  
"It's nothing to thank me for," she whispered. "I did it out of."  
  
"Love?" He asked softly.  
  
"Yes." Now it was her eyes that searched his face.  
  
He turned away a bit, sighing. Then he faced her again.  
  
"Love is largely a mystery to me," He told her quietly. "I don't know if I've ever really experienced it. But I do know that what I feel for you is like nothing I can ever remember feeling before. Not on this level at least. I know if I lost you I'd be devastated. I know that I look forward to each day a little more because you're with me. I miss your laugh when we aren't together. When we find something new I watch you to see how'll you'll react, listen to hear what you'll say. My delight is secondary to yours."  
  
She blinked back fresh tears, gripping his hands tightly in hers. He squeezed slightly, still looking at her with that open childlike expression. "Is that love?" He asked in a hushed voice.  
  
"If it isn't, it's close enough in my book," she answered as she pulled him back down into a kiss.  
  
He broke it to look at her. "Sarah."  
  
She shook her head fiercely. "No. I've waited long enough for this. WE'VE waited long enough. I want this more than anything." Her gaze was pleading. "Please."  
  
"Anything for you, Sarah," he whispered. "I'd do anything for you."  
  
"Then love me. Right now."  
  
He needed no further assurances or assertions. He released her hands and moved his to her thighs; gently parting her legs even as she opened them wider of her own accord. He kissed her, twining his tongue with hers, gasping as he felt her hand snake down to encircle him and caress his organ, making him hard and aching again in seconds. She wrapped her legs loosely around his waist, using her hand to guide him to her secret center, damp and eager for him.  
  
Their eyes met and locked as he gently eased into her.  
  
He moaned. She felt so good, warm and wet and soft against him. She tightened the grip of her legs a bit, holding him to her as she took his face in her hands. He pushed himself fully into her, still taking care to be certain he wasn't hurting her, and felt another surge of desire as she cried out in pleasure. She tilted her hips upward and the added friction made him gasp.  
  
All the voices, all the normal chattering his mind did within itself was stilled. There was only one thought, one desire: Sarah.  
  
Sarah couldn't believe how good he felt. She hadn't enjoyed sex very much the few times she'd had it before. Now she knew it was because she hadn't felt for those men the way she felt for the Doctor. This was the most amazing thing she'd ever known. She didn't think of them as being two separate people. They were two halves of a whole, too long kept apart and now joined again never to be parted.  
  
He began to move against her, a slow, easy rhythm. She rocked in time with him, caressing his back, his shoulders, running her fingers through his wild tangle of curls. All the time she watched him. It seemed more important than anything in the universe at that moment to know how he felt, to see that he was feeling the same pleasure that she was. And he gazed steadily into her face, as though he was doing the same thing. That, too, was new to her. She'd always kept her eyes closed during sex. But he made her want to look at him, to bore her way into his very essence, to join with him on every possible level.  
  
He whispered something so low she couldn't make it out, his body moving faster against hers. She drew a quick breath, feeling a tingling start in her sex, a flush spread into her skin. She whimpered, and then gasped. She knew this feeling. "Doctor," she said, her voice breathless, "I'm."  
  
"Close," he replied, leaning down to kiss her. "So am I." the last word ended in a moan as he felt her tremble against him. "Sarah. you feel so good."  
  
Sarah felt something gather speed inside her, something powerful and all consuming. Her fingers clenched the smoothness of his back, her hips moved harder, her back arched as the pleasure came crashing down upon her in waves, radiating outward. She was spilling over, exploding into infinity, a release too strong to be restrained. She clutched him as she came, burying her face in his neck, then flinging her head back and crying out his name, not his real name but the only name she had for him, the only name that mattered.  
  
When he felt his, felt her explode against him, he thrust into her with a hard, fast movement, once, twice. and that was all that was needed to send him over his own edge. Everything that he'd kept restrained and denied for so long demanded he yield, and he obeyed gladly, holding her close as he moaned, feeling his body ignite in an endless stream of ecstasy that washed over him so strongly he drowned in the rapture only to resurface and go under again and again, until finally his flesh quieted and he became aware of them trembling against each other. He carefully slipped out of her and gathered her to him, pressing dozens of tiny kisses all over her face, murmuring nonsense words that somehow seemed to make sense to them both. She laughed, a breathless, exhilarated sound, grabbed his chin and planted a kiss of her own on his mouth, pressing on until even he had trouble breathing and had to wiggle back from her. She embraced him, and for an endless moment they simply held each other, saying nothing because nothing needed to be said. He gently pulled her down on the bed beside him, and she pulled the blanket up over them. He fitted her into the curve of his body and tucked her head onto his chest. She yawned and slid a hand down to his hearts.  
  
"My, someone's a bit out of sorts," she said wickedly.  
  
"Yes, I wonder how that happened," he deadpanned, fighting back a yawn of his own. Apparently Time Lords were affected by sex in a manner similar to humans. "Perhaps we can get some sleep for a bit to recover."  
  
"Are you saying I wore you out?"  
  
"My dear Sarah Jane, you most certainly did. And I have absolutely no complaints!"  
  
"Ditto," she said, yawning again. "Mmm, I see what you mean! Sorry, I know yawning right now isn't very romantic.."  
  
"But very understandable," he replied with a lazy grin. He kissed her and was about to pull her close again when she suddenly slid away and hopped out of the bed.  
  
"Where are you going?" He exclaimed, feeling a sudden sense of loss.  
  
She turned and wagged her eyebrows. "The light?"  
  
"Ah."  
  
She chuckled as she turned the light off and slipped back into the bed. "Now, where was I at?" She asked, feigning forgetfulness.  
  
"Right here," he growled, tangling her up in his arms and legs.  
  
"Oh, yes," she purred. "How could I have forgotten?"  
  
"Humph," he said, but she knew he was smiling. She reached up and kissed him. "Good night, Doctor," she said sleepily as she nestled against him.  
  
He stretched against her, feeling more relaxed and happy than he had for a long time. "Good night, Sarah Jane," he replied softly.  
  
Sleep came to them, and together they fell over the edge into it. 


	12. When the Bough Breaks, Part 9

Sarah woke, muzzily blinking into the darkness. It took her a second to remember everything that had happened during the earlier part of the night. When she did she smiled. There was a loud rumbling sound coming from beside her, doubtless the reason she'd awakened. She turned, studying the Doctor's still form in what little light was coming in from the window.   
  
He was sleeping peacefully, arms wound around her, protective even in his dreams. Was he dreaming? She didn't know. For a moment she found herself wondering what a seven hundred and forty-nine year old Time Lord would dream about. Well, now she could at least confirm that, while Time Lords might not dream, they certainly could snore!  
  
She grinned and shook his shoulder gently. "Doctor! Stop sawing logs, would you? I can't get back to sleep with all that racket!"  
  
She did this mostly in jest, not shaking him hard enough or speaking loudly enough to awaken him, or so she thought. She was shocked when he mumbled: "Sorry," and the noise stopped.  
  
She blinked in surprise. Apparently he wasn't as deeply in slumber as she'd thought. But he said nothing else, and she settled back down against him. In the newfound quiet of the room she sighed and fell asleep.  
  
When he woke, it was daylight. Not very late, he realized, probably around eight in the morning. He felt well rested and sober, not that he'd needed much sleep to recover, despite their fierce lovemaking. But at the same time there was a curious urge not to move, to remain in the bed. He puzzled it for a moment, then smiled when he found the answer.  
  
Sarah was snuggled tightly against him, head resting on his shoulder, one arm draped over him and curling around his chest. He studied her as she slept, listening to her gentle breathing, watching as her mouth opened and closed slightly. A part of him was experiencing the desire to stay in bed with her, not to sleep but to bask in the warmth and closeness of her.   
  
Well, why not? He couldn't think of anything he'd rather do presently than to spend another hour or two beside her until she woke. This was something that humans called "afterglow," he thought. And he did feel as if he was glowing. Inside he was lit up like a Christmas tree, happy in the newfound discovery of her feelings for him. It was as if all his lives he'd been holding a breath, waiting for something, and at last that something had arrived.  
  
Yes. Enjoy it while you can. It won't last long.  
  
He smiled grimly. I thought I told you to get lost.  
  
Oh, you did. But do you really think you can get rid of me?  
  
I can certainly try, he thought angrily.  
  
Fool. Do you not realize that I'm part of you? That without me you wouldn't exist? We need each other, you and I.  
  
I certainly don't need you poking at me with the stick of all my shortcomings!  
  
Oh, yes, you do. I'm your conscience, your feeling, the other half of your intellect.  
  
The dark half, more like it.  
  
Call me what you will. I serve to remind you of what you must never forget.  
  
Yes, yes, so you say, he replied impatiently. But why do you say it won't last with Sarah?  
  
You'll muck things up just like you always do.  
  
Not this time, the Doctor vowed. Not with her.  
  
We shall see.  
  
"Doctor?"  
  
Sarah was awake now, peering at him anxiously. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Quite all right, dearest Sarah," he assured her, kissing her lingeringly on the lips before smiling. "How do you feel this morning?"  
  
"Like I've been on a spree," she joked, and he chuckled. "And what about you, Doctor?" She asked, anxiety coloring her voice. "How are you?"  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Really?" Her eyes searched his.  
  
"Yes, really."  
  
She smiled tenuously. "Good."  
  
They kissed again, a slow gentle kiss, not of passion as the night before, but as an affirmation of what they felt for each other. When it ended he sat up, then stood up, stretching. She watched him, enjoying the sight of his naked form, pleased that he apparently felt no shyness with her. As if sensing her gaze on him, he turned and pulled her up from the bed in a quick fluid movement.  
  
"Come on," he told her. "I have an absolutely huge bathtub that needs to be broken in properly!"  
  
"Bubbles and all?" She couldn't resist asking.  
  
"If you like," he smiled.   
  
"Sounds grand!" She laughed. "Then what?"  
  
"Why, then we're off, of course! Lots for us to do today, you know!"  
  
"Really? Like what?"  
  
He grinned and spread his arms wide, and she wished more than anything at that moment that she could capture the look on his face forever, all wide eyes and teeth and pure and simple happiness. "Everything, Sarah Jane," he answered as he kissed her. "Everything."  
  
"Sarah, are you listening to me?"  
  
"What? Yes, of course I am," she replied. A few beats later she asked: "Now, what did you say that one is again?"  
  
"Thortion," he answered patiently, pointing upwards to the sky again with a long slender finger. "And the one next to it is Hilos Major."  
  
"Ah, yes, the one shaped like a bird," she murmured, flexing her feet and moving closer to him on the wide soft expanse of the flannel blanket they were lying on. After their bath, they'd stopped off at the TARDIS so Sarah could change clothes, then spent the day wandering around Sarganti, hand in hand like lovers. They'd had breakfast in a bakery, where the Doctor had fed her miniature karberry muffins until she thought she'd explode. She'd countered by giving him forkfuls of sausage dripping with syrup. After that they'd gone into several of the shops, and the Doctor had, to her amazement, insisted they both get tourist T-Shirts printed up, white cotton ones that proclaimed: "I lost my mind in Sarganti and all I got is a lousy T-Shirt."  
  
"But you haven't really lost your mind," she pointed out. "Not completely, anyway. And I haven't even come close since we've been here!"  
  
"Is that so?" He said. "Well, think of how boring it would be if they said "Almost lost my mind." Besides, we have to match. It's some sort of law for couples, I think, you've got to have one matching piece of clothing."  
  
"Are we a couple, Doctor?" She asked, half wanting to hear his answer, half terrified it wouldn't be one she wanted.  
  
He rolled his eyes. "I just spent thirty retz on these shirts, didn't I? For goodness sake, Sarah, do try to keep up!"  
  
She smiled and reached up to kiss him. "Sorry."  
  
"It must've been the muffins. You're usually on the game," he mused.  
  
"Maybe it was the steamy shag in the tub," she suggested wickedly in a low voice.  
  
He stared at her earnestly. "Do you really think that? It's so hard for me to gauge things in a sexual perspective, you know."   
  
She chuckled. "Well, I don't really think that's the cause, but it was awfully good!"  
  
He gave her an answering smile, then his attention was caught by an antique map case in another store display window, and off they went.  
  
That had been hours ago. Since then, they'd attended an impromptu jazz concert, went to the museum, had dinner, and generally spent the entire day focusing on each other. There'd been no talk of the TARDIS, or leaving, or of how he was doing. They'd simply spent the day as an ordinary couple, doing ordinary things. And neither of them would have traded it for anything else.  
  
When it was about an hour before sunset, he'd stopped and bought a huge flannel blanket, two large fluffy pillows, a small picnic hamper, a thermos, two teacups and saucers, two cloth napkins and some sweet biscuits. He filled the thermos with hot tea they got from a coffeehouse, and they went to the seashore. They drank tea, ate biscuits, and watched the sun set over the water. Then they walked along the edge, teasing and talking, until the moon began to rise. Then they made their way back to their belongings, put the pillows down, and cuddled up together. As they lay looking up at the sky, Sarah  
  
Caught glimpses of several other couples, walking hand in hand, sitting and talking, running in a game of tag. She wondered if she had the same silly grin on her face that they all did. Probably, she decided. And she also decided that she didn't give a fig.  
  
She'd shivered a bit about an hour after they'd settled down, and the Doctor had taken off his coat and spread it over them. It was his old coat, the huge tweed one that was rivaled in length only by his scarf. He'd gotten it when they'd made their trip to the TARDIS. She'd watched him put it on and forced herself not to cry out in delight, not wanting him to think she was making an undo fuss. But oh, how it had done her heart good to see him in it!  
  
Now he'd been pointing out the constellations to her, telling her their names and how they got them. She'd been listening happily. She loved his voice, deep and rich and gentle. He could have been telling her about Rassilon Calculus and she'd probably still have been eager to listen.   
  
But another hour or two had passed, and she found that she was getting sleepy. He was in the middle of telling her how Athalon had come to be placed in the sky when he heard a tiny yawn. He whipped his head to look at her with a frown. "You might have told me if you were bored, Sarah."  
  
"I'm not bored, you silly thing, I'm tired!" She told him. "I'm a human, you know: I need rest from time to time!"  
  
"Indeed you do. I'm sorry, I should have thought of that."  
  
"Don't apologize, there's no need." She yawned again. "But I do want some sleep."  
  
He nodded. "We'll be safe here from the tide."  
  
"Sleeping on the beach," she murmured. "How romantic."  
  
"That was the idea, Sarah."  
  
That gave her a jolt of energy, and she turned to look at him. "Doctor! I didn't think you had it in you."  
  
He chuckled. "I may be a Time Lord, but I'm not stupid."  
  
She nodded. "I should have realized. I'm sorry."  
  
"No need," he said, echoing her words from moments before. "Now, why don't we  
  
get some rest, hmm? After our nap I'll finish telling you about Athalon."  
  
"Sounds wonderful," she sighed, repeating the sound when he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She lifted her head from his chest to murmur: "But what about you? I know you're not sleepy..."  
  
"Time Lords can induce sleep at will, Sarah," he said. "We just normally don't sleep unless we're very exhausted or need to heal sickness or injuries." He kissed her cheeks, nose, lips. "Don't worry, I shall soon be joining you."  
  
"But why? You don't have to..."  
  
"No," he interrupted, "I don't have to. But I want to. I like falling asleep in your arms, and you in my arms. I'm doing it because I want to, Sarah, don't worry."  
  
She smiled. "That... makes me so happy..."  
  
He kissed her again and gently pressed her head back down onto his chest. "Then go to sleep happy, and wake up happy," he whispered.  
  
She murmured his name followed by an almost inaudible "I love you," and drifted away.  
  
He waited, watching the movements of her closed eyes until he knew she was in REM sleep. Then he carefully eased himself away from her and stood up, wrapping his scarf more securely about him. His face was grim, but his eyes were determined.  
  
He'd told Sarah how he felt about her. They had made love, gloriously, no less. Today had been one of the happiest days of any of his lives. Only one thing remained to be done. One thing stood between him and his freedom, his being ready to resume his life with her by his side as the love of his hearts.  
  
One thing. And he had to confront it.  
  
He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and slowly walked towards the sea. 


	13. When the Bough Breaks, Conclusion

Well, this is it, folks. Many thanks to all who've reviewed this story! If you've been reading "Ozymandias," keep watch for part 3 soon. Also keep an eye out for my next story, a 5th Doctor/Tegan story to be titled "Hobson's Choice."  
  
The Doctor gazed into the dark salty water. It seemed a lifetime ago that they had arrived in Sarganti-even to him. In the span of a few days he'd stood on the edge of madness and stared it in the face. He'd found. not love, not yet, not on his part, anyway: but love from Sarah, and recognition of his feelings for her. He knew once again how it felt to be complete and whole.  
  
"Except that two is company and three's a crowd," he said aloud sternly.  
  
Why you say such awful things is beyond me, his other self sniffed.  
  
"Because it's true. I have neither the need nor the room for you in my life, and I want you to stop this hateful indulgence at once."  
  
How can you ask me that? I'm you, whether you like it or not, remember?  
  
"O, yes," the Doctor replied gravely, "I remember. But I also seem to recall you never used to be this nasty until very recently. A few days ago, in fact."  
  
It's for your own good--"  
  
"It is not for my own good!" The Doctor shouted. "It is YOU who enjoys these tirades, YOU who feeds off of trying to make me miserable! You who tried to make me afraid, and weak, and think I've failed but I haven't! The only one who has failed here is you!"  
  
So clever, you think you're so bloody clever. Well, Mister Know-It-All, what do you think you're going to do about it?  
  
"Tell me," the Doctor said in a conversational tone, "Do you recall the story of Merlin?"  
  
Of course. And what, pray tell, does that have to do with this?  
  
"Well, you see, I always found it interesting, in the version I watched, how Merlin fought against Maab. He was equal to her in power, but neither of them could overcome the other."  
  
Is there a point to this?  
  
The Doctor ignored the jibe. "And in the end, Merlin won because he refused to continue accepting Maab. He rejected her, stopped believing in her. And she withered away. You see, in order for her to have power, she had to be listened to, feared, thought about. But it's like dear old Cervantes said: 'take away the cause and the effect ceases.' Rather good advice, don't you think?"  
  
No.  
  
"Well, I do," the Doctor said quietly. "And I'm the one who counts in this conversation. Speaking of conversation, this one is about to be over. For good."  
  
And how do you figure that?  
  
He grinned. "I'm putting you away, old boy. Away from where you can do me any harm. A nice safe place where you can rant to your hearts' content." As he spoke he reached deep within his mind, found this part of himself, and began to push.  
  
You can't do this! The voice raved. You can't get rid of me!  
  
"I know that," the Doctor answered calmly. "I'm just putting you somewhere out of the way. You see, I've come to realize that no matter how bad it gets, I can't stop. No matter if I make mistakes and have to accept consequences. That's a part of anyone's life. Mine can't be any different."  
  
Sarah has done this! It's because of her that you're become so pathetic!  
  
"It's because of Sarah that I am coming back to my old self again!" The Doctor declared. "Her support and faith in me have made me realize I was in danger of letting myself fall into your clutches!" He was still mentally pushing this other part of his mind further and further away, brushing off its feeble attempts to resist with a surge of exaltation.  
  
As he pushed it towards its final destination his dark fragment made one final attempt. You don't deserve her, you will never deserve her.  
  
"Maybe I don't," the Doctor answered with a smile. "But I'm willing to spend the rest of this life to try."  
  
And he gave a sharp mental kick.  
  
There was a howl of rage, a fleeting sense of vertigo, then nothing. The Doctor envisioned steel walls closing together, one set after another, a dozen sets, a hundred, more than he could count. When that stopped he projected a steel door with a large padlock. He heard one faint final whisper as he slammed the door shut and locked it.  
  
"I deny you," he whispered. "By everything I am and everything I do, I deny you."  
  
He stood at the door for a moment, listening. But there was nothing to hear.  
  
Sarah felt the Doctor gently shaking her shoulders. "Wake up, Sarah Jane!"  
  
"Mmm?" She groggily sat up, blinked a few times, and focused her eyes on him. Her eyes widened, closed and opened wide again, trying to impress the image before her into her sleep-addled brain.  
  
The Doctor was sitting beside her, dressed in his old clothes down to his hat, his grin wide, his eyes shining. "You've been asleep long enough, Miss Smith, it's time I resumed my astronomy lesson for you. Now, where were we? O yes, Athalon."  
  
"DOCTOR!" She shrieked, pushing him down onto his back and hugging him fiercely. "You're back! You're really back!"  
  
"Well of course I am! You didn't think a little thing like mental collapse would keep me down for long, did you?" He exclaimed with a pout. "I thought you of all people would know better than that!"  
  
"Right, pull the other, it's got bells on!" She exclaimed, wiping a tear of relief from her eye. She kissed him hard and quick, then peered down into his eyes. "Out with it, then," she ordered. "Are you really ok now?"  
  
He smiled and took her face in his hands. "Thanks to you I am," he told her.  
  
Her brows scrunched together. "Me? What did I do? Apart from giving you mind-boggling sex, of course," she added.  
  
"Of course," he agreed. He traced her lips and cheekbones with his fingertips. "You believe in me, Sarah. You support me and have faith in me no matter what. You. love me."  
  
"And that makes all the difference, does it?" She asked.  
  
"Yes. It does."  
  
"Well. Chalk one up for romance!" She laughed.  
  
"Yes, indeed." He moved his hands down to clasp hers. "Sarah."  
  
"O, what now?" She cried. "You've got that serious look about you again!"  
  
"That's because this is serious," he replied. When she subsided he looked into her eyes. "Sarah, when I told you I don't know much about love personally, I meant it."  
  
She nodded, uncertain of what might be coming next.  
  
"But when I told you I want to understand love, I meant it. I think I've got a good start, but I'm sure I have a ways to go." His gaze was searching, hopeful. "Are you willing to be patient with me, help me to learn?"  
  
Her lips quivered and her eyes brightened with tears, and she smiled in the way that never failed to warm his hearts. "I have all the patience in the universe!"  
  
"Well hopefully you won't need quite that much," he chuckled. He held her tight, burying his face in her hair, and her arms went around him. They stayed like that for a long moment before she released him, wiping her eyes on a handkerchief that he fished out of his pocket. "So, what now?" She asked.  
  
"Well, now we finish the constellations. Then we go to sleep, and later after breakfast we set off in the TARDIS. I imagine the old girl is feeling a bit neglected."  
  
Sarah nodded, then looked at him. "Doctor. the TARDIS. Will she be all right with this? I mean, with us being lovers?"  
  
"Well, it will be a bit of an adjustment for her, I'm sure," he drawled. "But she'll settle down fairly soon, I should think. She likes you very much, you know. And I suspect that she's known this was going to happen."  
  
"Oh, so now the TARDIS is a time machine AND a psychic?" Sarah chuckled.  
  
"She does have skills even I don't always understand," he replied. A sudden spark of mischief lit his eyes. "But you know, Sarah, I was thinking. maybe instead of me giving you another astronomy lecture, that you could give me a few pointers in a certain subject?" His gaze became playfully seductive. "In the ways of bringing you to the heights of sexual ecstasy, perhaps?"  
  
"I'd be most happy to do that!"  
  
"Wonderful!" He exclaimed, then drew a sharp breath as she licked a sensitive spot on his neck he hadn't known was sensitive. He looked up at her with his usual grin. "I say, I think this will be MUCH more interesting than astronomy!" 


End file.
